


The Man in the Bar

by Backbiter222



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accident, Bar, Drinking, Drinks, Fanfiction, Impala, Intoxication, Kansas, Leukemia, M/M, Main Character Death, Pancakes, Snow, Supernatural - Freeform, Trenchcoats, TwentyFour, angle - Freeform, car, car crash, egg, fourteen, gay men, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backbiter222/pseuds/Backbiter222
Summary: A man is sitting at a bar. He has been in the same seat at the same bar for several hours with the same glass of beer. There are tears slowly sliding down his cheeks, tracing their path hesitantly and slowly.





	The Man in the Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Random_Inked_Thoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Inked_Thoughts/gifts).



> This is my first fanfiction. I normally write in the original work category but was challenged by my friend, Random_Inked_Thoughts, to write this. She writes some great Supernatural fanfiction so if you like this, please head over and give her work a read. And if you have the time, please check out some of my other stories. Thanks! Happy reading.

         A man is sitting at a bar. He has been in the same seat at the same bar for several hours with the same glass of beer. There are tears slowly sliding down his cheeks, tracing their path hesitantly and slowly. It's like his eyes were unused to crying and did not really know how too.

         He picks up his glass again and puts it down. It is still half full.

         Another hour passes.

         The bartender looks at this man sitting all alone in a bar. He looks at the clock. This man has been here for over seven hours.

         A new man walks in.

         He looks handsome and is of an average height. He appears to be in his thirties, but you can never really tell these days. His clothes look out of place for this bar, a pair of dress shoes and a black suit.

         He has a trench coat which he hangs on a hook by the door. It is tan with a belt around the middle.

         He walks over to the sad man still sitting at the bar.

         "This seat taken?"

         He only gets a gruff nod from the sad man.

         "Get me a drink. Anything will do. And one for my friend here," the new man says to the bartender and gestures to the man still sitting beside him.

         "Tough break?" he asks gently. His voice is smooth, but still deep and gravely.

         The man sitting next to him looks up.

         "I guess you could say that."

         "She leave you?"

         "H-She did. Yeah. Thanks for the beer, but I best be going."

         "You've been sitting here for about eight hours. Are you really going to leave?"

         A few minutes pass while neither of the men speak. The newcomer in the suit finishes and orders a few more beers. The sad man looks now at both beers in front of him. He still does not take a drink. A few more tears try to find their way down his face. The half empty glass is still in his hand.

         "What was her name?"

         "Benny."

         "That a girl?"

         "Yes," the sad man shot back. But he replied too quickly. To defensively. The man in the suit raised his eyebrow.

         "Cool. Want another drink?"

         "Why would you do that? I haven't finished either of mine."

         "One more drink for this fellow here and two more for me."

         The suited man turned to the sad man and whispered, "It's hella hard for me to get a buzz from this stuff."

         Then he laughed like he made a funny joke. The sad man just watched with his glazed eyes and confused stare as his next drink arrived and the man in the suit continued to chuckle to himself.

         He now had three drinks in front of him, two full and one-half empty. The other man had thirteen empty glasses around him and one more full one in his hand.

         "This stuff," the suited man exclaims as he gestures to his beer, "is like Heaven. I only wish it did for me like it does for you."

         Then he started to laugh again.

         After saying this, the sad man looked down at his beers. He picked up his first, the half-empty one, and had his first drink in about six or seven hours. He had last drunk only seconds after ordering before losing his appetite.

         He finished his beer and picked up the next. For some reason, being with the new man makes him feel happy, a happy he hadn't felt for such a long time.

         "So what happened the Benny?"

         The sad man looks up as he finished his second drink. The man in the suit notices then that his eyes are a brilliant, beautiful green color. They seemed to shine in the dim light of the bar.

         "I'd rather not talk about that."

         With that said, he finishes his second drink and picks up his third.

         "Fair enough," the man in the suit replies, "Five more drinks please."

         He gives two to the sad man and three to himself. They quickly join the other empty glasses for a total of sixteen.

         "So where are you from?" the man in the suit inquires.

         "Kansas."

         "That's a long way from this hellish barn."

         The suited man starts to laugh again and orders another large round of drinks. Seven for himself and two more for the sad man.

         There are now seven beers in front of the sad man. Five are now empty and the two new ones are full. Unlike the man in the suit, the sad man is now beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol he consumed.

         "So it is," he responds to the man in the suit, "Where you from?"

         "A rather large family in what was supposed to be the perfect place. But my dad left and the whole thing started to fall apart so I jumped ship too."

         He started to laugh again and picked up two more of his seven new drinks. He drinks them quickly and picks up another. There are now eighteen empty glasses and four full ones in front of him.

         "Benny died."

         "What?"

         "I said, Benny died. You wanted to know."

         After saying this, the sad man finishes all of the drinks he had left, for a total of seven empty glasses. And then, for the first time in about nine or so hours, the sad man orders himself more drinks. Three more, to be precise.

         He waits to speak until the beers arrive and then takes a long sip before turning to face the man in the suit. As he looks him in the eyes, he realizes just how vibrant his brilliant, deep blue eyes are.

         "Benny was my best friend for a long time. H-She eventually became what I guess you would call a b-girlfriend."

         The sad man pauses and takes another long sip of his beer, finishing it, and picks up the next. But he does not take a sip yet.

         The man in the suit has not drunken anything since the sad man started to speak. He still had in front of him his eighteen empty glasses, his three full glasses, and a half-empty one in his hand.

         "We were happy, I guess until he-she started to feel bad. Like, really bad. I made him go to the doctor, but it took a week or so. When the doctor finished running his tests and whatnot, the look on his face told me everything I needed to know. Something terrible had happened."

         Fresh tears started to make their way down his face, stronger and more confident now than before. The glass he was holding in his hand slips out and crashes against the floor. Beer and bits of glass fly up, and the bottom of the sad man's pant legs are soaked.

         This leaves eight empty glasses and one full glass in front of him.

         The bartender starts to move forward to clean up the mess but is stopped by a motion from the man in the suit.

         The sad man continues his tale.

         "He had leukemia. Blood cancer. Real late stage too."

         The sad man stops and looks at the suited man.

         "Why am I telling you this? I got to go."

         He stands up, for the first time in about nine or so hours. You can hear the joints in his legs creaking and groaning.

         "Wait," the man in the suit calls out to him, "Let me tell you something. You trust me cause you know you can. I'm sorry about Benny. Sit back down. Let me tell you a tale."

         The sad man sits back down. He picks up his last full glass and finishes it in seconds. This leaves nine glasses in front of him.

         "I'm listening."

         The man in the suit puts down his now empty glass. He has twenty-two empty glasses in front of him. He had somehow drunken the others while the sad man was looking away. Despite both having nothing left to drink, neither of them make a move to order more. Not yet.

         "You know, you don't have to deal with this on your own, right?"

         "Why not," the sad man says, "Who could I talk to?"

         "Don't you have family? Friends?"

         "No. Not anymore."

         The man in the suit looks at the sad man and waits. After a moment of silence, the sad man begins to reluctantly talk again.

         "I had a brother. Younger. But the soulless jerk left and most of my friends are dead."

         "Seems like you just don't have God on your side when it comes to people," the man in the suit says and starts to laugh.

         He looks over at the bartender and starts to order more beers.

         "No," the sad man calls out, "Let me."

         He orders ten drinks. The bartender raises his eyebrow but delivers the order. The man in the suit receives six drinks and the sad man takes four for himself.

         The sad man now, for the first time that day, looks out the window and sees that is night time. He looks back at the man in the suit.

         "What time is it?"

         "Last call!" the bartender yells out.

         The last five or so people file out of the bar, all but one very drunk. You can hear the sounds of retching from outside and one man falls against the door frame on his way out. Now there are only three men left in the bar.

         The two men, the sad one and the one in the suit, finish what is left of their drinks.

         "Fourteen. A respectable number to end on," the suited man declares as he looks to the sad man.

         "It is a good time to stop. And twenty-eight is twice that," the sad man replies.

         He makes a move to stand, but falls. The man in the suit jumps up and grabs the sad man's arm. He turns to the bartender and hands him a selection of bills, enough to pay for all forty-two drinks and for the bartender's tip.

         The man in the suit helps the sad man to the door, stopping only to put on his trench coat.

         They exit the bar and find that it has begun to snow.

         "Snow! I like snow! Snow, snow, snow!" the sad man begins to slur and sing. He has become very intoxicated.

         "We need to get you home," the man in the suit says and begins to drag the sad man to the bus stop.

         "No! My car." The sad man points to a sleek, black car, possibly an Impala or something similar.

         "Very well."

         Now the sad man starts to drag the man in the suit around. This only partially works, mostly because the sad man is unable to walk more than a foot or so without falling.

         "I'll drive."

         "No! None one gets to drive baby," the sad man mumbles before falling asleep on the ground.

         The man in the suit takes the sad man back to his house, felling it unwise to leave him sitting in a car overnight.

         This meeting in the bar was only the start. After the man in the suit tool the sad man home, they met again and again and again, each meeting place getting only fancier and more expensive.

         It took only three months for the two to move in together.

         You could no longer call the sad man sad, but instead happy. Happier than he had ever been before.

         Until the Accident.

         It was early in the morning and the happy man wanted pancakes.

         "Do we have any eggs?" he inquired of the man in the suit.

         "No. I can go get some if you would like."

         "That would be amazing," the happy man called back.

         As the man in the suit walked out the door, he paused. Sitting in his chair, the happy man paused. They both felt something, something strange.

         "Bye!" the man in the suit yelled as he walked out, shaking the feeling off.

         Then came the car.

         Speeding to fast.

         The crash.

         The happy man ran outside to see the man in the suit broken, bloody, and very dead sprawled on the ground. There wasn't a car in sight.

         Only a container of broken eggs.

 

 

 

_A man is sitting at a bar. He has been in the same seat at the same bar for several hours with the same glass of beer. There are tears pouring down his cheeks. Their path is now well known and familiar._

_He picks up his glass again and puts it down._

_The bartender looks at this man sitting all alone in a bar. Again._

_A new man walks in._

_He walks over to the sad man still sitting at the bar._

_"This seat taken?"_

_He gets nothing from the sad man._

_"Get me a drink. Anything will do," the new man says to the bartender and then turns to the sad man._

_"Tough break?" he asks. His voice sounds rough and bad._

_The man sitting next to him looks up._

_"I guess you could say that."_

_"What was her name?"_

_"His name was Cas."_


End file.
